Feature Article

[Source – Pixabay]
In ancient Rome, they say, there was a belief that intimate/ urgent/ special prayers had to be spoken aloud, a mandatory act for the prayers to be answered.
A mandatory act? Yes! I say, if not spoken aloud, how will a prayer then cross the ocean of voices and climb the mountain of whispering hymns?
A prayer needs to begin its journey before reaching its destination.
What if the prayer holds a secret and when spoken aloud, huh, a devilish soul, a rival, a conspirator hears it?
Darn it, don’t fear, make a move!
Don’t let a passionate prayer rest amongst the unspoken, ignored, forgotten, suppressed thoughts.
Let it be heard, this secret prayer, for what if a poet catches it and turns it into a timeless sonnet or a dramatist turns it into a tragicomedy or a composer turns it into an epic melody…
Anna Akhmatova uttered a prayer aloud and heard it carefully, herself first, and then turned it into a poem for the rest.
Writing, perhaps largely just making mental notes, living in Stalin’s Russia, facing censorship and strict impediments, Anna Akhmatova stood her ground to witness the brutalities Time threw her way – her dear ones struggling in soviet labour camps – and refused to leave her country.
What anchored her in the storm?
How come the maddening drama unfolding in her life did not suffocate?
Is not her work a verdict that catches Time in the witness box? And her poems a passionate prayer that acquits Time for she knows it will change? Her loud prayer a promise not meant to be broken? Yes, yes, yes!
*
You Will Hear Thunder
By Anna Akhmatova
*
You will hear thunder and remember me,
And think: she wanted storms. The rim
Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.
*
That day in Moscow, it will all come true,
When, for the last time, I take my leave,
And hasten to the heights that I have longed for,
Leaving my shadow still to be with you.




[Source – Wikimedia Commons]
Anna Akhmatova prayed for Fire, for storms; not the fire that spreads strategically to plunder, but the fire that engulfs to bring an end, former started by a selected few and latter by the overwhelmed masses.
She knew well the dual persona of Fire and thus invoked it.
When lit as a ritual, Fire remembers to abide by the fancy cultural twists, but when lit for destruction, it does not stop until it destroys the destroyer, forgiving none, consuming all, levelling the ground for a new beginning.
*




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Grounding and transporting at the same time…what a fabulous contradiction…what a brilliant piece! 🙌
Thank you my friend.
Contradictions support a lot many great ideas and help in moving forward, that’s why, at times, they’re fabulous.
Thanks again, ya-hoy!
Similar to the wise in ancient Rome, i heard a musical teacher once say, if you do not say the notes out loud, they do not become real. So make them real to you.
Thank you again for a beautiful introduction to a beautiful poem and a 🔥 of a poem. Goes straight in.
More importantly, just coming across your 7 year old post and a fresh one, one wonders what a transformation. The touch of same mood in such different colours. Love it. Keeping on chooglin’ girl!
Wow! Make the notes real, speak aloud, and read stories aloud and dance non-stop (occasionally). A research says that reading out loud was the norm in the ancient times, this was the job of a scribe, they read messages out loud for the kings and queens… and reading aloud or even muttering is good for the brain, read (maybe out loud) this article to know more – https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20200917-the-surprising-power-of-reading-aloud
Anna Akhmatova is amazing! Her poems are indeed beautiful and fiery. 🙂
Thanks! Choogling, wah! I know now, after a short search, that choogling means many things, sort of a slang for cool and awesome stuff and funky music… and that is what I will continue doing. Ya-hoy!
Beautifully written. 🤗
Thank you so much! 🙂